By attuning herself to the unity of the winds—both those that move outside and those that circulate within—she became subtle and elusive, difficult to perceive, like a master of fragrances whose presence is hidden in the very scent she creates. Benefiting from the power of mantras, sacred herbs, austerities, offerings, worship of the gods, and similar practices, she surged forth with the force of lofty mountain river waves, unstoppable and full of energy. Her movement was as mysterious as the light of a lamp—its flicker unseen—quickly merging and coming to rest, just as a needle slips into its sheath and finds peace there. Ever guided by her own tendencies, she sought out every possible abode; yet, the very signs of her presence were like a demoness, and by these signs, each dwelling was established. No matter how far she wandered in all directions, in the end, each being returns to their own place—just as a living needle is drawn to an iron needle, or as a dull mind returns to its own kind. Thus, after striving and wandering through the ten directions, she found satisfaction only in her mind, never in her body. Indeed, qualities arise only when their proper foundation exists, not otherwise; the body, belonging to someone, is what experiences satisfaction. Then, recalling her previous body, she who had once felt bodily satisfaction became distressed, longing for the pleasure of a full and contented stomach. Determined, she resolved, "I will perform great austerity for the sake of my former body," and by her own will, she chose a place for her ascetic practice. She entered the heart of a young sky-vulture by the path of the life-breath, moving as effortlessly as a creature of the air through the sky. The vulture, thus inhabited, picked up an iron needle and, with his beak, placed it upon a funeral pyre, just as the mind sets an intention in motion. Taking the needle, the vulture flew to the mountain she had envisioned, impelled from within by the force of the needle-demon, much as a cloud is driven by the wind. In a great and deserted forest, the vulture set her down in a spot free from all intentions, as a yogi places consciousness in a state free from resolve. She, now merged with that single atom at the tip of her foot, seemed to be established by the vulture on the mountain's summit, like a deity enthroned. With one sharp end of the iron needle, she pressed her foot firmly upon the broad, high peak, as if crowning the summit of a great mountain. Observing the vital needle, which had been placed within the vulture, she began to move outward, seeking to depart from the bird’s body. The vital needle left the vulture, eager to emerge, like a wisp of fragrance rising toward the nostrils on the wind. Relieved of his burden, the vulture returned to his own place, inwardly calm, like a porter freed from his load or a person healed from illness. The iron needle was established as a support for her austerity, for a firm foundation is always fitting for great undertakings. Actions without form cannot succeed without a support; thus, relying on this single foundation, she remained steadfast in her asceticism. The vital needle encircled the iron needle on all sides—like a demoness embracing a shimshapa tree, or like a breeze winding around a garland of fragrance. From that time onward, O Indra, this needle, devoted to long austerity, remained there in another forest for many years. For her noble purpose, you too should strive skillfully in your duties; the power accumulated through long austerity is indeed sufficient to burn the world. Hearing this from the sage Narada, Shakra (Indra), ever alert, sent the wind to the ten directions. Then, in harmony with the wind, he himself went to observe her, swiftly traversing the sky-path with great haste. The wind-consciousness, quick and all-pervading, suddenly perceived her without obstruction, just as supreme consciousness perceives all. At the edge of the earth's seven oceans, on a vast plain bound by the mountain belt of Lokāloka and adorned with many jewel-stones, he saw her. He beheld the ring of the sweet-water ocean with its mountain ranges, the circle of the Pushkara continent, and the mountains within. He saw the ring of the wine ocean, teeming with aquatic creatures, the shore of the Gomeda continent, and its central realm. He saw the moat of the sugar-water ocean, its inner mountain groups, the eastern plateau of the Krauncha continent, and the sequence of mountains within. He beheld the ocean of milk, with its central lord, surrounded by the Śveta island and its elemental companions. He saw the earth girdled by clarified butter, with celestial dwellings within, the expanse of Kuśa island as its radius, and vast mountain caverns. He saw the ocean of curds, with moving cities inside, shaped like the eastern part of the Śāka island and containing inner realms. He gazed upon the ocean of brine, with its inner cities and mountains, and the great Meru of Jambudvīpa, crowded with a range of family mountains. At first, by the gusts of wind, all these are tossed about; thus, carried by that very force, the wind proceeds gradually to the end. In this way, the wind, observing Jambudvīpa, reached the peak of the Himalayas, where Sūcī, the ascetic, was engaged in her austerity. On that lofty, formidable summit, he found her—the forest-dweller—spread out in the second sky, untouched by the actions of living beings. No grass had yet grown there, for its nearness to the sun allowed only dust to pervade, like the very construction of saṃsāra itself. She had reached the state of a river of mirage, filled as if with the waters of an ocean, resembling Indra’s bow, and appearing as a stream of mirage. Boundless at its edges, even when observed by the guardians of the world, it was nothing but a whirl of dust stirred by the movement of the wind.